Skin Deep
by NiCoLiO101
Summary: “Well...it’s just...you look like such a bastard. You look like you would take pride in the dark side...you look like...” Hermione told him, shocked.


Skin Deep.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that you recognize, in fact; I probably don't even own the things that you don't recognize. I write for fun and also to relieve stress, so please don't sue me, its not like you'll get much anyways.

WARNING: This story is going to be serious and have a real plot. It is rated for sexual scenes and lots of violence and language. If you're only looking for some pointless story where there's a lot of sex and no plot, then please hit the back button right now.

**_Blah_**, thoughts.

COS. Change of scenes.

_blah_, stress on a word.

Chapter One.

War all the time.

It was cold and dark. 16-year-old Draco Malfoy didn't know where he was, or even what time of night it was. But he did know _why_ he was there. His golden locks and handsome face were hidden behind a disgustingly tacky (in his opinion at least) death eater mask. He could see nothing but darkness; hear nothing but the heavy breathing beside him.

He wasn't scared. As he and Severus Snape had been planning this for a long time. Severus, who was currently standing beside him in the dead of night, was obviously scared, something was truly bothering him. "Are you sure about this?" Severus whispered, for what seemed the tenth time that night. Draco only Sighed and ignored him, waiting for something important to happen. "I mean, you could just leave them there and hide...you could die, you know that?"

"I'm gonna die eventually Sev." Was the smart reply, although he had said it louder then intended. It echoed off the silence, a twig cracked, and both he and Severus jumped at the offending noise. It was, after all, too dark for them to see "That's it," Draco cried softly, "I'm getting out my wand..."

"No, we can't use magic until he gets here." Severus whispered urgently. Draco only shook his head and wrapped his hand around the wand inside his robe. He then pulled it out silently.

"Lumos." He whispered into the air. Both were shocked to notice, that when a small light popped out of the end of his wand, other death eaters, their faces hidden by masks as well, surrounded them both. "Gah." Draco said lightly, nearly dropping his wand in fright. Snape did not flinch, and only looked at Draco in worry.

"Draco," He whispered, "I don't think you're ready to do this. I mean look at you...you nearly dropped your wand because there were other people around you." He whispered, eyeing the other death eaters wearily.

Draco, who had not been paying attention before, only wondered how the death eaters could stay so quiet and so still for such a long amount of time. He also noticed that they were in some sort of field, surrounded by forests and farms. The animals were all silent, watching from behind their fences as the death eaters sat and waited. He knew that his father was somewhere among the crowd, probably glowering in anger at him because of his noisiness.

Finally, with a crack that resounded among the trees, and a chilly breeze ruffling everyone standing in the field, Voldemort, with his nasty red eyes and scaling skin, decided to make his appearance.

"Welcome, my loyal onesss." He hissed, "to the final battle. We fight to the death." With that said, he waved his arms toward the other side of the field, and Draco noted with a small amount of fear, that the light side were all standing there as well. Albus Dumbledore, along with all the other professors from Hogwarts, and of course Harry-Bloody-Potter stood right in front. He had to admit it was a bit intimidating, but he had to concentrate on what he had to do tonight.

Draco was to lead his Death Eaters (As Voldemort had divided the Death Eaters off with their respective leaders) to the west wing...which so happened to be a small forest. They were to wait there until the light side was driven there in an attempt to escape the dark, where they would promptly attack and win forever.

He rubbed his hands together and looked at Severus, who was staring back at him in nervousness. "Don't worry Severus, I'll try to survive."

"Try," Severus answered, trying to lighten the mood, "you _have_ to survive, and you cannot fail. The light will not win against so many of us. Do what you have to do."

"And if I fail?" Draco asked, "If I die because one of them kills me?"

"Then all is lost." Severus sighed, before taking his own set of death eaters toward the front to face the light side, where Lucius Malfoy had also taken his set.

"Well, come on then." He said, aggravated at the fact that the entire outcome of this war rested in his hands.

COS.

Hermione Granger was tired. Not only was she tired, but she was pissed off, as she had been placed well toward the back of the crowd, when Harry got to stand right up front, Ron right behind him. Maybe it was because she was a girl or worse, because she was muggle born. Not only had they woken her up in the middle of the night, Dumbledore with a grave expression on his face, and Harry with a determined one, AND apperated her to some place of which she had no knowledge, but then they humiliated her by placing her so far behind in the crowd.

But no, she thought, this was what this war was all about. Muggle borns and half bloods. That could not have been the reason; it had to be something else. Nevertheless, this was it. And they were not prepared. Most of the students that surrounded her were younger then her, and completely unprepared. The dark side had an advantage, as they had chosen the time and the place, and the only hope the light side really had was currently up in front, arguing with Ron about something or another.

Angry, she pushed her way through the crowd, as there had been some sort of a stand still, and neither side wanted to move first. When she finally reached the front, growling softly, she heard Ron say, "That's it? That's all of them?" He was staring out into the field and she followed his gaze into the darkness. He was right, there were only two sets of death eaters, each group with one lone death eater standing proudly in front of them.

But that couldn't have been it. Something was wrong. She had no time to dwell on it, as, with a feral cry coming from the Death Eaters, the war began. Hermione looked at Harry for support, as fear overrode her senses and her big brown eyes widened in fear, a small breeze whipping her thick curls out of her face. He stared back, agitated to note that a lot of other people were staring the same way at him.

"Well, come on then." He said, aggravated at the fact that the entire outcome of this war rested in his hands.

COS.

Draco Malfoy was not a happy person. He watched the Death Eaters as they all stared back at him. "We have to wait." He said, knowing that they wanted to spring into action, and soon. He contemplated his situation, and he knew that once he drew out his wand, there was no turning back.

Sighing, and cursing any god that might exist, he tightened his hold around the wand. Snape's words from earlier resounded in his mind and he knew that if he failed all would be lost. Figuring that it was now or never, he sighed dejectedly and whipped out his wand.

They all froze, watching him with bated breath, as if he was going to start shouting orders, which they were more then happy enough to oblige too. Sighing again, but this time with agitation, he yelled loudly, "Avada Kedavera," and watched as it hit six of them (who were huddled closely) on the chest. "They were un-loyal." He explained, as they all nodded absently and sighed with relief.

"Avada Kedavera!" He yelled once again, and six more were down. They were smarter then being fooled twice, and most of them were swarming around him.

He yelled something, at the same time he dodged a shit load of killing curses, and the rim of the forest began to blaze up in fire. He smiled, satisfied that they were trapped here with him, and continued to go along a pattern.

Dodge. Shoot. Dodge, dodge, shoot. Dodge. Shoot. Dodge, dodge, Sho—Dodge. Shoot. Shoot. Dodge...

COS.

Hermione knew that something was wrong, and as she followed along the crowd, already smelling death and blood, already watching as witches and wizards alike fell, she noticed a forest off to the west of her. Something was wrong in there, as it had more movement then all others.

No wonder there were so little of them, they were hiding in the forest and waiting. Waiting to bring the light side to their doom. She separated from the crowd, slipping almost unnoticed, and made her way to the forest preparing herself to take out as many of them as she can before dying in pride.

On her way there, however, she ran into two big clunky Death Eaters who seemed to have wandered from the forest. She immediately recognized them as Crabbe and Goyle. They were probably lost or something. They looked down at her and smiled. "He's in there." One of them told her.

"Yeah, and he might need help." The other finished, and they both made their way into the crowd. She wondered if they would survive the war, or if they were even trying to tell her something. Was there something that they knew and she didn't?

When she got there, what she saw froze her in her spot. She watched as one of the Death Eaters turned on the rest, hurling a killing curse and nailing six of them. She then saw him mutter his excuses before killing another six. The others soon began to swarm him, shooting the killing curse from all angles.

His voice had sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place whom it belonged too. She watched, mesmerized, as he jumped almost ten feet in the air, and bent down backwards extremely close to the ground in order to avoid the curses being hurled his way.

He was helping the light side.

It was incredible.

By the time he came back up, she noticed that his mask had fallen off. With no hesitation, she took a look at his sweaty face. No fricken way, it was Draco Malfoy. Malfoy. It was Malfoy.

His face was lined with worry and his eyes were filled with determination and concentration. He was sweating from avoiding all the curses, and also because of the fire that was closing fast on all of them.

Silently, and with a guilty conscience (as she had never really killed anyone before), she began to whisper the killing curse at the Death Eaters, noting that he was surely outnumbered. He sighed with relief as they were dwindled down and then he chuckled to himself as he shot a curse at the last one standing.

Removing his cloak, she noticed that because of all the sweat, his clothes underneath were sticking to his skin. He had a slander build, with many muscles. Surely a sight to behold. She smiled. He was desperately looking around, and mumbling things into the fire to try and get it to stop. There was no way out it seems, and she watched, about to burst into tears, as he sat, defeated, against a tree and watched the fire get closer.

"I didn't fail, Sev. But I won't be surviving either." He mumbled sadly, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Come this way!" Hermione yelled, deciding that she could trust him. His eyes snapped open and looked in her direction, noticing that there was indeed, a clear path. He ran toward the sound, avoiding falling branches and spit from the fire.

When he got there, panting for breath and staring into her eyes, he was able to choke out one word in the midst of his gulps for air. "Granger?!" It was said with skeptical absurdity.

She nodded. "I saw what you did. Now come on, lets get out of here."

As they ran, she surprised both him and herself with her next question, "What was that all about?"

He stared back at her, raising one eyebrow. "I was helping your side. What did it look like I was doing?" His voice was hoarse, and he was still gasping for breath. She stared back.

"Well...it's just...you look like such a bastard. You look like you would take pride in the dark side...you look like..."

"**_Looks_**, Granger," He began, looking straight into her eyes as he spoke, "are only skin deep." It was said with such clarity, and such meaning, that she was silent the whole way back into the crowd of death.

"I...I better get back to the fight...." She said, turning around and running straight into a Death Eater. Who ever it was, he or she was breathing deeply, with their robes stained in crimson.

"You...you did it Draco?" He (as the voice was definitely male) rasped, before stumbling toward him, not even noticing Hermione. Taking this as a good sign, she whipped out her wand and began the curse.

"No!" Draco yelled from behind her, grabbing her wand and pointing it to some other Death Eater. He then managed to grab onto the stumbling Death Eater and fall to the ground with him. "What did they do to you, Sev?" He asked quietly.

Sev...Severus Snape!! It all became very clear for Hermione. Both Snape and Draco must have been working for the light side somehow. Boy, if only Harry and Ron knew...

Draco, who had been staring at her with a look of question on his face, told her, "Look, Granger, it's better that you don't tell anyone about this." She nodded dumbly, looking shocked as to how he could have read her face like a book. He then turned back to Snape. "How are they doing?"

Snape tried to say something in reply, but only yelped in pain. Draco held onto him tighter, and followed Snape's finger as he pointed toward where two wizards stood amongst the crowd. Draco recognized them as Harry Potter and Voldemort.

Hermione stood, with bated breath, and watched the encounter, not noticing as Draco crept closer to the duo.

COS.

Draco inched closer to the pair, as they were off to the side of the battle, right by another forest. As he made his way there, however, he heard some moaning come from a little further down the forest. Grabbing his wand, he stumbled blindly toward the noise, wondering what poor soul could be in that much pain.

"Well...if it isn't the little Weasel?" He said, staring down at Ron Weasley. Ron was bleeding from his wand arm, his hip and had some deep scratches on his face and neck. "God," Draco whispered, once he got a better look at the red head, "What did they do to you?" He made sure Ron couldn't hear the rhetorical question.

"Malfoy? Oh great, and here I was, hoping that Harry had killed you already." Ron managed to rasp, head swimming with pain, and resignation.

On his own accord, Draco began to laugh. "Even when faced with Death, you wouldn't beg for mercy, now would you?" He said, whipping his wand in the red heads face and taking a menacing step forward.

Ron swallowed loudly and his face began to sweat, he tried to tell his legs to move but they felt numb, he couldn't get up. "Go to hell!" He managed to say through his gasps in pain.

"I bought my ticket for hell a long time ago, and everyone in this war has just purchased theirs as well."

"Not the light side...we...we're..."

"What? You're all killing people as well. Just because they're evil doesn't make it right, you're being just as evil by stooping to this level of such war. Sending children younger then us into this blindly. It's insane, Dumbledore must be off his rocker..."

"What do you mean, _they're evil_? You're one of them too, so why don't you just kill me and get over with it?"

Draco smiled, and pressed his wand to Ron's chest. Ron in turn, closed his eyes and waited for the blow to come. Draco mumbled something, and Ron passed out, then in a 'pop,' Ron was gone. He would wake up the next morning to find himself in the infirmary.

Sighing shakily, Draco turned away and continued on his way toward his "master" and the bloody hero. **_The light side has a twisted version in their heads of how the battle between Harry and Old Voldie should go_**. Draco thought, ignoring the fact that he had just called Potter by his first name, or that he had helped Weasley, and that Granger, with that damned beautiful face and those damned thick curls of hers, had seen him kill off an entire army of those who he was supposed to be helping. **_They think he should be alone when he does it, which I think is wrong. The kid needs help, and I'm gonna help him out if no one else will. _**

When he got to the main course of the war, both participants were extremely weak. Now, Draco knew of the prophecy and he also knew that when one of them shot the killing curse at each other with, both wands would disintegrate, as the wands were brothers and would not go against each other that way.

So as Potter was getting ready to end this once and for all, he heard a very recognizable voice from behind him, somewhere in the trees.

"Psst...Potter? Potty? Scar head? Here, take my wand."

"What?!" He whispered harshly, never taking his eyes off Voldemort, who was currently panting for breath and trying to keep a good grip on his wand, left hand clutched to his chest. He was looking up at Harry, wondering why in hell the boy hadn't killed him yet.

"Here...take. My. wand. Yours. Wont. Kill. him." The voice replied, as if who ever it was, they were talking to a child and trying to explain the easiest thing in the world. It was condescending, and only made Harry more frustrated.

"What? Why?" He said, now turning his back on Voldemort and scanning the trees.

"No. Don't turn away from him. He's got some terrible tricks up his sleeve...and just take my fucking wand, ass." Harry was taken aback as to how some one could talk to him in such a way (he was after all, the savior of the wizarding world), and turned around quickly feeling his wand being taken from his grasp, and another slipping into it.

"Avada Kedavera." He said shakily, barely audibly. Nothing happened.

"You...you can't be serious. Didn't they teach you _anything_ about the unforgivables?" The voice from before laughed, mocking him. His teeth ground together through his frustration. How could anyone talk to him in such a manner when they were in a situation like this?

"Yea...they taught me everything I know..." He replied defiantly. Voldemort was gaining energy now, and just as he was about to stand up, the voice yelled,

"Crucio!" And Voldemort fell back on the ground, panting for air. The curse wasn't strong enough to have real effects on him, as he was a very strong wizard, but it did knock him down a bit. "You have to say it loudly, clearly and with meaning. You want to kill him, don't you? I mean. Look behind you, people are dying right now to help you, are you gonna let them die in vain?"

"Avada Kedavera!!!" Harry yelled with clarity, watching with silent satisfaction as Voldemort was enveloped in green light and then lay motionless on the ground, eyes wide open in fear. Draco had to admit the boy was strong, but he would never do it publicly of course.

"Of course you wouldn't let them die in vain, you little ass, you're such a bloody Gryffindor." The voice (Draco) mumbled, but it sounded like it was getting farther and farther away, as if the person was leaving.

"Wait!" Harry yelled, "Your wand..." He noticed an engraving on the deep burgundy wand and brought the wand closer toward his face.

**Malfoy,**

He stared, shocked into silence and no movement, at the engraving, wondering why in hell Draco Malfoy would ever help him in war. Even as the light side (the ones who survived, that is) swarmed him and cheered, he stared at his wand, tears blurring his vision.

Dumbledore, who had watched the entire battle between Harry and Voldemort, asked him, "Harry...who were you talking to in the forest earlier?" A small twinkle filled his grave eyes as he noticed the script on the wand Harry was staring at.

COS.

"Sev? Where are you Sev?" Draco asked, looking around a sea of dead bodies that were once fellow death eaters and school professors or students. The surviving Death Eaters had been arrested and Draco wondered briefly if Lucius had survived.

"I apperated him to the infirmary." A voice said from behind, a small hand was even placed on his shoulder. He turned around to face Hermione Granger and offered a small smile.

"Thanks." He choked out, noticing that her hand had not left his shoulder. "And...and my father?" He asked, voice filled with a small amount of curiosity.

"He's been arrested." She replied, noticing his smile growing wider. She had never seen him smile before, and she found herself smiling back. "And do you know of Ron?" She asked him after a while.

"He's in the infirmary." Draco replied. "Now, go celebrate with bloody Potter, and tell him how proud you are of him. Let him know that people care about him and Blah, blah, blah. Go be a Gryffindor." He grimaced at his own words.

"I think I'll celebrate here with you for a while." She replied, her hand still resting snugly on his strong shoulder. He smiled gratefully and sat down amongst the bodies. When she sat down beside him, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a hug, and cried tears of joy into her shoulder.

She cried back, happy that it was all over, happy that not everyone was as bad as she thought, happy that this moment was happening, happy that she and Ron and Harry had survived. And she was even happy that the Man who was currently crying tears of happiness in her shoulder had survived as well.

Yes, she was happy to note that Draco Malfoy was alive and well.

And so they sat, crying in each other's arms, amongst a sea of dead bodies, most of them recognizable, the smell of death lingering in the air and a celebration going on not too far away from them.

((Well, there you all go. As for my other story, the one I started three hundred years ago, it's over. I'm done with that one, and ready to move on with this one. Unless of course, it sucks. And, if you haven't noticed before, I'm Pro Draco Malfoy. I think he's hot, I think he rocks. And no one can say any different.))


End file.
